Distracted
by ThursdayNext88
Summary: One night, Gendry sees a mysterious girl with gray eyes in a club, and is immediately drawn to her, despite the risks that may be involved. One-shot.


When he first sees her, she is leaning against the wall, surveying the mass of bodies thrashing together on the dance floor, idly twirling a stir straw in the drink she holds loosely in her hand. She is doing nothing of note, but draws his eye without any logical reason. He is distracted for a moment when a giggling girl with her tits practically hanging out stumbles into him, and grabs his forearm tight to catch her balance.

With a squeeze, she turns him in her direction, and he allows her to do so. With the type of confidence that only comes with the consumption of alcohol, she puts a hand on his chest, and smiles sloppily at him. "Buy me a drink?" she purrs into his ear.

Suddenly he feels an elbow nudge his side, and knows it's Luke, egging him on, and subtly reminding him of why they were there. Pick up a girl, ply her with drinks, try to convince her to go home with you. The whole idea makes him sick, but, for some reason, Luke always convinces him to go out just once more. He doesn't know why, at this point, since he's never gone through with it, despite cajoling and more than willing women.

He prefers his women sober, thank you very much.

Sighing inwardly, he flashes a smile at the blonde who seems very interested in feeling his chest. "Pick your poison," he said, and she happily looped his arm around her shoulders and moved them in the direction of the bar.

Maybe she would turn out to be someone who could hold an intelligent conversation. Maybe she'd remember him in the morning to spend time with him sober. At very least he could try to keep her from making a bad decision that night.

He sat there, a bottle of beer in his hand, regretting this decision as the girl somehow managed to reveal even more of her breasts as she leaned towards him, vibrant pink drink in hand. It wasn't as if it weren't flattering, but he could tell, from how she was slurring her words, she wouldn't remember him the next day. He was simply a conveniently placed male presence for the night.

Without warning, she grabbed his hand, and, bemused, he allowed her to lead him to the dance floor, and bobbed his head in time to the music, as his companion for the night shimmied and waved her arms around.

That was the second time he saw her. The glass in her hand had been left elsewhere, and she was lost in the music, eyes closed, her face glimmering with perspiration. Her movements were fluid, and, though she sought no attention, she was clearly drawing it, evidenced by the guy in a worn leather jacket that was staring at her with a predatory look in his eye.

He was distracted once more, this time by a cold, wet sensation on his neck. Apparently the blonde found that sucking on her drink paled in comparison to sucking on his neck, and she was very dedicated to her task. Wincing as he felt her teeth against his throat, he immediately pulled back. The heavily intoxicated female next to him, however, was not deterred, and intensified her attempts to chew a hole in his neck.

Trying to stay polite but still be able to go to work tomorrow without bruises all along his neck, he pried her away and renewed his attempts at dancing. Taking another swig of her drink, she took the bait, and raised her glass in the air, making a joyful "wooo" noise as she got into the beat. He gulped down the rest of his beer. '_I'm not nearly drunk enough to dance_,' he thought to himself. Making a gesture that he was going to get another drink, the girl who had dragged him to the dance floor winked lasciviously at him and swayed in time to the music.

As he fought through the crowded club to the bar, he caught a glimpse of Luke, who was leaning over a girl in a corner, pushing a lock of hair from her face. He had seen this move a hundred times before, and he knew that there was no chance of getting out of here anytime soon.

Quickly, he fortified himself with a shot, and another beer to bring back with him to the dance floor. He struggled again to get through the crowd once again, and found that the girl who had been so eager to nibble on his neck appeared to have turned her attention to the neck of an exceptionally skeevy looking guy. As he considered breaking in to try to save her from what she would surely think of as a mistake when she was sober again, he was, for the third time that night, distracted.

This time, however, the distraction was not in the form of a blonde that wanted very badly to seduce him, but of someone falling to the ground, and the momentary shocked gasp that can only come from a group of people who really don't care. He had a sudden flare of recognition when he saw the guy collapsed on the floor was wearing a leather jacket, minus a predatory look, holding his stomach and writhing in pain. Intrigued, he glanced around to see if he could find the girl with dark eyes who had so drawn his attention before, who he had last seen next to the man on the floor.

Far to his right, he saw the briefest flash of a figure with short hair exiting through the side door. Another look showed Luke pulling even closer to his target for the night, and a bouncer parting the crowd to check on the fallen man, and he decided to satisfy his curiosity by going outside.

A chill had fallen since he had last been outside, and darkness had fallen. The rain from earlier in the day was drying up, leaving puddles scattered on the ground, and the scent of rain mixed with the smell of cigarettes. There, in the light the one dingy lamp in the alley was the girl he had seen inside, pulling her jacket closer and taking a deep breath.

Now that he had found her, he didn't know what to do. Tap her on the shoulder and say 'Hi, I'm Gendry, I saw you there and I followed you outside, wanna hang out?' He felt that work out well for him, so paused at the edge of the pool of light, and absentmindedly slipped his hand into his pocket to reach for his keys, gently patting them to make sure there were there.

This small noise was enough to draw the attention of the figure in front of him. In an instant,she had spun around, her hand flew to her pocket, and gray eyes stared at him warily.

"What do you want?" she asked, not taking her eyes from him for a moment.

Gendry raised his hands up in a gesture of goodwill. "Just coming out for some fresh air."

"Then why don't you go somewhere else to get your air, and leave me be?" She girl kept her hand in her pocket, and looked pointedly behind him, very clearly demonstrating that she did not want him around.

Unsure of how to react, he turned and began to move. Then, as if someone else entirely had possessed his body, he stopped and spoke. "Did you what happened to that guy that ended up on the floor inside?"

He didn't know how, but an instant later, he was pushed up against the building, and the girl he followed outside was the one holding him there, her arm pressed on his throat.

"What are you implying?" From the serious tone of her voice and the deadly calm in her eyes, he could tell she meant business. Judging by how she had incapacitated him so quickly, he also had serious doubts about being able to overpower her.

"N-nothing," he stuttered, his voice wavering despite his attempt to keep it steady. "I just noticed him standing next to you a few minutes ago."

After staring at him for a beat, she released him and stepped back. Even though he had no reason to, he felt a strange sense of loss when she stopped touching him.

"I don't know what happened," she replied smoothly, patting her pocket and zipping her jacket closer. "I was heading outside when he collapsed. I don't know him."

"So," he began, not knowing what he would say next.

"Go back inside," she said with finality, gesturing to the door he had exited through minutes before.

Hearing the implied threat, he quickly went back inside, and firmly decided he would never go out with Luke again.

XXXXX

SEVERAL WEEKS LATER

XXXXX

Gendry's experience outside of the club had shaken him more than he would have liked to admit. Despite this, he couldn't stop thinking about the girl with the cold gray eyes he had seen, and found himself back there the next weekend...and the weekend after that. The first time he went there, there was no sign of her, and he tried to convince himself as he went home that he was being stupid, and hated being in clubs.

Nevertheless, he went back the next night. Just as he was about to give up home and leave, he saw a fluid motion out of the corner of his eye. There, at the edge of the dance floor, he saw her, once again lost to the music.

Ordering another drink, he brought it to a shadowy corner and sat, watching the swarm of dancers through the flash of strobe lights and artificial fog. Idly, convincing himself that he was not staying just to watch her dance, he observed the dancers on the floor. Limbs flew, seemingly in stop motion, hair swung, hips rocked, and the music pulsed through his body.

As he watched, he saw someone else observing her, and sidle up next to her. As the figure next to her put a hand on her ass, she broke instantly from her reverie and stared at the man standing close to her. As he tried to pull closer, she drew back, obviously not interested in his advances, but he wasn't paying attention. At that moment, the DJ put on a new song, distracting the crowd. If Gendry himself weren't focused so intently on the scene being played out with the gray-eyed girl and the man trying to proposition her, he would have missed it himself. She drew her hand from her pocket, touched the man's neck, then swiftly stepped away. A moment later, she was nearly hidden in the shadows,and the man made anguished moan, dropping to the ground.

As she reached the side door, she turned for an instant to survey the club, and her eyes landed on Gendry. Her eyes met his, and then she was gone.

Taking another sip of his drink, he watched a bouncer cross the room to the fallen man on the floor, and wondered why he was still here, and why he planned on coming again. There was something dangerous about this girl, something he couldn't even fathom, but he couldn't handle not knowing.

The next week, he had ended up at the same spot. He had "let" Luke convince him to go to the same club again, and he sat, as before, in the shadowy corner, waiting and watching. Again she appeared, as sudden as a drift of smoke, moving with the music. He didn't know how long it was until she opened her eyes next, but when she did, her eyes immediately fell upon him,and he felt self-conscious. It was over all too soon, making him doubt that she had seen him, or even recognized him, but he still remained there. After he got up to get another drink, he returned to find a scrap of paper on the table when he returned. On it was a scribbled note in an unfamiliar hand, saying 'Tomorrow. The Keep. -A'

He scanned the room twice to make sure that he wasn't missing her, but the now-familiar figure had disappeared as quickly as she appeared. Not knowing how, he was convinced that the note was from her. Despite any misgivings he felt, Gendry knew where he would be the next night.

When the next day rolled around, he stood outside of The Keep, wondering what he was doing. He had seen what this girl could do, and been overpowered by her himself. Yet he couldn't stay away. Dismissing his hesitance, he stepped inside. The music here was louder than in the club across the street, but otherwise felt mostly the same.

As he sat down at the bar, a bearded bartender appeared, took his order, and slid a bottle over to him.

Taking a sip, he surveyed the room, to see if the mysterious girl would appear, or if this entire situation was a fantasy. Silently he spun the coaster he was given in circles as he waited. A few minutes later, the bartender appeared again, filled a tumbler with a red liquid from his beverage gun,and set it next to Gendry on the bar. Confused, he was about to say that he had not ordered anything else, when a familiar figure appeared to his right and picked up the tumbler, then raised it slightly to the bartender.

After she met his eyes, she turned and began to walk away. Almost positive it was what she wanted, Gendry followed his mysterious companion to the back of the bar, and, following her lead, sat down at a tall round table.

Lifting the deep red beverage to her lips, she took a sip, then asked," Why are you following me?"

He felt frozen, and inwardly cursed himself for having been so obvious.

"Um..." he lamely began.

"At least you're not denying it," she said flatly, setting down her drink.

For the first time, Gendry truly understood how well and truly fucked actually may be right now. He had seen this girl, who he outweighed by at least fifty pounds and was at least a foot taller than, disable a full-grown man twice. He knew for sure, despite her small frame, she could also immobalize him.

"I don't know," he confessed, looking her in the eye, as he felt this may be the best way to keep on her good side.

Without another word, she set down her still nearly-full drink and strode off to the still relatively empty dance floor. Once she arrived, she raised an eyebrow at his confusion, and he rose and joined her across the room. As she saw him get up, she started dancing, as lost to the music as she had been every other time he had seen her. He drew close and attempted to dance as well, as that appeared to be what she wanted, but didn't know what to do, or what she wanted. He was nervous about getting too close, as he had seen what she could do, but could not convince himself it was a good idea to leave.

After a minute, gray eyes opened and bore into his own. She extended her arm and grabbed his, pulling him to her.

Breathing deep, he dared to put a hand on her waist, feeling the warmth of her body underneath the silky shirt she wore. When she didn't pull away, he began to move with her, and felt her arms inch firmly up his shoulders. She smelled of some exotic spice he couldn't place, giving him a heady rush.

She leaned up and whispered in his ear, "Arya," answering the unasked question.

Somehow it felt wrong to speak, and she didn't prompt him for a response or ask his name. Instead, he enjoyed being close to her, and didn't bother to try to understand why.

Hyper-aware of her presence as he was, he was not caught unawares by her breath on his neck, but felt a shiver run down his spine nonetheless. As she pressed closer yet and started moving her fingers through the hair at the base of his skull, his heart began to beat faster, and his breathing turned shallow.

At the point where he didn't think he could stand this level of contact anymore, yearning for more, she took hold of his arm once more, and led him to the back of the room. He decided he didn't give a damn what may happen to him at this point, as the girl with gray eyes – Arya – had enveloped his senses.

The scent of stale beer pervaded the alley he found himself in, but that thoughts might have stemmed from that quickly left his brain as he ended up, for the second time in as many weeks, pressed up against the side of a building. This time, however, was much different than the first. For one thing, there was no arm pressed against his throat. Second, and most importantly, her lips were on his, and he wasn't going to miss this for the world.

She tasted tart, like cranberries, and her lips were cool against his. He felt clumsy compared to her smooth movements, as she moved her hands to the collar of his shirt and started undoing the buttons one by one. Emboldened by her movements, he placed his hand on the small of her back and slowly lifted her shirt, not stopping until he felt her skin beneath his hands.

Her back was lean and warm and taut, and as she moved back slightly to allow him access, he slid his hands to her front, feeling the outline of her ribcage as his hands went higher and higher, finally hitting a satiny restriction, a swelling beneath his hands. He moaned into her mouth as she unfastened his last button, her hands perilously close to the swelling just below, then pressed closer once again, her own hands snaking up his sides, cool against his fevered flesh.

Arya's tongue flicked against his, and his hips bucked towards her without his permission. Wanting – needing – to feel more of her flesh, he quickly moved to the clasp at her back and struggled with it for a moment until it gave way and moved his hands higher, wanting to push her away so he could feel more skin while _needing_ her to be pressed up against him.

Then, and every time he thought back to that moment, he wasn't sure how she had done it, but suddenly she was the one against the wall, and he was pressing against the heat she was radiating. She was pulling down his zipper, moving his hand to her own, which was already pulled down. When his fingers felt the damp flesh, all rational thought left his mind.

She grabbed a nearby ledge to boost herself up so that their hips liked up, and his hands went automatically underneath her legs to support her. Without a thought to what he was doing, he was inside her, and nothing else mattered. He heard he gasp as he drove in, her fingers clawing into his back, his shoulders, any part of him she could find, the rough brick catching on her shirt. She adjusted slightly, grabbing him tightly, biting down on his neck as he rubbed against her. Her moans, though inaudible, vibrated through the skin on his shoulder. "Gendry..." she whispered, and drove him over the edge.

In one hot wave, everything came to a crash, and she clenched, spasiming around him. He stood there, still pressing her to the wall, shaking.

Almost as suddenly as she had pressed against him, she had pushed away, and he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up, clothing being adjusted, and footsteps walking away.

Still weak on his feet, he tried to look as if he hadn't just had insane sex against the wall with a stranger.

"My name...how did you know.."

He saw her slowly stop, then turn. The gray eyes he had seen just moments before were now a shade of green, and the silhouette he saw was taller, more rounded, so very different from the body he had just been pressed against. In an instant, she was a different person

"Gendry...I know more than you'll ever comprehend."

She turned again and was gone.

**Author's Notes: This is very much a departure from anything else I've written. This is the closest I could get to Arya post-House of Black and White in a modern-day setting. I'm still kinda scared of writing in actual ASOIAF universe, because the tone and language still feels so foreign to me, and I don't feel confident dabbling quite like that. However, I think I'm just going to end up jumping in headfirst, because I have something in mind. **


End file.
